


fired up

by inexhaustible



Category: DAYS (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Glove Kink, M/M, PWP, filling some requests
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-23 07:52:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9647021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inexhaustible/pseuds/inexhaustible
Summary: in which i fill a whole bunch of pwp requests and regret my existence.





	1. shibakimi; glove kink

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr / request more @iindou  
> (i'm not proud)

Kiichi whines, nipping at Kimishita's neck.

"You're not seriously going to keep the gloves on," Kiichi says, even as his hips buck upwards into Kimishita's touch. Kimishita smirks, letting his hand linger, and it's as if Kiichi can feel its heat, even through the layers of fabric, his hips twitching forward, longing for contact.

"You don't seem to be complaining," Kimishita says, pulling away. "But if you insist," he continues, starting to pull off the red gloves. Kiichi's hand shoots out, grabbing his wrist. Kimishita turns slowly to look at him, something smug in his gaze.

"K-keep them on," Kiichi grits out, though he can feel his face flush scarlet.

"Where are your manners, huh?" Kimishita asks, authoritative, and Kiichi feels a shiver go up his spine, something sharp uncurling under his skin every time Kimishita uses that voice with him.

"Please," Kiichi begs, and he sees Kimishita's eyes go dark and black, the glove snapping back onto his wrist.

_Fucking sadist._

Then again, he's not complaining.

"That's more like it," Kimishita says, lowly, and Kiichi feels heat crawl under his skin, a shudder running through him.

"Atsushi," he says, relishing the way Kimishita's eyes go wide when he says his name. "Touch me."

"Fine," Kimishita says, hoarse, pushing Kiichi back into the bed, leaning over him. Kimishita meets Kiichi with a searing kiss, and Kiichi feels himself burn raw with the ferocity of it, nerves scorched and jittering.

"Please," he pants into Kimishita's neck, and Kimishita complies, working a hand down under the waistband of his shorts.

"Greedy, Kiichi," Kimishita says, a reprimand in his voice. Kiichi closes his eyes against the shiver that runs through him when Kimishita growls his name, possessive and dark.

"Only for you," he groans, as Kimishita's hand wraps around his dick. The leather rubs up against him, rough and almost painful in the tightness of Kimishita's grip. _He's doing that on purpose, the bastard._

Still, Kiichi gasps into it, leaving sharp nips along Kimishita's jaw as he sets a callous pace. Kiichi meets Kimishita's lips in a sloppy kiss, breath coming too quickly to deepen it.

"Say my name again," Kimishita orders, and Kiichi groans, arching into his hands and throwing an arm over his face.

"Atsushi," Kiichi says, voice catching as he gasps in shuddering breaths. He's fucking close, and Kimishita knows it.

"Kiichi," Kimishita says, meeting his eyes. "Come for me," he says, voice low and eyes intent, grip tightening impossibly around Kiichi's cock.

Kiichi follows orders – he comes with a muffled sob, head thrown back and biting down harshly on his wrist, hips stuttering out faint aftershocks as he rides it out.

"So good," Kimishita whispers, against the shell of Kiichi's ear, and he flushes, body shaky and trembling.

Kiichi rides out the high, before he drags Kimishita into a kiss, hands dropping to unbutton his shorts. His heart feels as if it's in his throat, hands still shaking.

"You can fuck me," he says, trying for casual and missing by a mile, "if you want."

Kimishita freezes, swallowing. His eyes shutter, as if pained. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Kiichi says, his voice rough. "I'm sure."

Kimishita drops a kiss on his temple before pulling away and moving off of Kiichi, opening the drawer on the nightstand and pulling off the gloves with a snap. Kiichi kicks off his shorts while he waits, anxious.

Kimishita flicks open the bottle of lube, squeezing some out onto his fingers. Kiichi glances over, surreptitiously spreading his legs wider, carding a hand through his hair.

"Say the word and I'll stop," Kimishita says, unusually gentle, and Kiichi loves him for it, nodding.

When his fingers press in, Kiichi lets out a shaky breath, covering his face with his arm. It's not so much painful as it is strange, and he pulls a face as he tries to relax, to acclimate. Kimishita is patient with him, pulling his arm away from his face and dragging him into a slow, lazy kiss as he stretches Kiichi out, adding another finger and curling them inside of him, searching.

When he hits the right spot, Kiichi jerks, hips arching away from Kimishita's fingers, a startled moan dragged raggedly from his lips. Kimishita cracks a wicked smirk, curling his fingers inwards again and again, and this time Kiichi all but sobs, overstimulated and raw.

"Kimishita," he gasps, "Atsushi, fuck, just fuck me, _please._ "

"Since you asked," Kimishita purrs, but his voice is rough, not unaffected by Kiichi's desperation. _Liking what you see, bastard?_

Kiichi hears foil crackling, looking down to see Kimishita withdraw his fingers from his body and roll a condom down onto his dick, spreading lube across the tip with his palm before he leans over, pressing at Kiichi's entrance with a labored breath.

"Are you sure about this?" Kimishita asks again, and Kiichi's not sure how he can be so composed, not when he feels like he's going to come apart at the seams just from his fingers and his voice.

"Yeah," he insists, "C'mon."

Kimishita presses another kiss to his forehead before pushing in slowly, shuddering minutely when he's fully in and leaning his head against Kiichi's neck, catching his breath. It's not uncomfortable, Kiichi thinks, relaxing, and cups Kimishita's cheek with his hand, throwing a leg over Kimishita's waist. He's getting hard again, he notes, with a faint sense of pride and horror warring in his head.

"You're so good," Kimishita breathes, against his neck, and Kiichi tenses around him, satisfaction rushing through him when he hears Kimishita let out a low groan.

"Fuck me," he says, insistently, and he grins when he sees a familiar competitive spark light up in Kimishita's eyes. "That's it."

Kimishita pulls back, complying, starting to move in earnest, and Kiichi arches into it, letting out gasps and whines that make Kimishita growl and clutch bruises into Kiichi's hips.

"More," he begs, "please," and Kimishita's face shutters again, pace picking up until it's unforgiving, until Kiichi's clutching at this sheets and writhing underneath Kimishita, pushing back against every thrust. He's not even sure if he can come again, like this, but every time Kimishita hits that spot inside him, he sees stars.

"God, Kiichi," Kimishita groans, "you're such a slut." Kiichi laughs, breathlessly, pulling him down over him into a kiss, teeth skittering over his lips and nipping fiercely.

Kimishita adjusts his angle, and Kiichi goes to pieces, a wordless mess of gasps and sobs as he finds his target.

"Gorgeous," Kimishita murmurs, against his neck, and Kiichi's too far gone now to be ashamed, running his mouth unapologetically.

"Please, Atsushi, god, need – _ah_ – please, touch me," he gasps out, because he's so close, so fucking close again, and Kimishita bites down at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, hard, finally reaching over and jerking him off as he fucks him, hard –

– and Kiichi is gone, arching and clawing hard at Kimishita's back as he comes, sobbing and oversensitive as Kimishita fucks him through it.

" _Please_ ," he begs again, because he's going to go insane if Kimishita keeps up this pace, feeling raw and almost pained at the sensation, and Kimishita finally buckles, burying his face in Kiichi's shoulder as he comes, hips stuttering to a stop inside him.

"Fuck," Kimishita groans, after a moment.

"Yeah," Kiichi agrees, breathless.

Kiichi turns to curl up against Kimishita, boneless. When he moves, he feels the soreness burn pleasantly in his legs and shivers, the reminder of what they'd done running electric through his body. Kimishita pulls away, and Kiichi hears the condom hit the trash can with a swish.

"Come here," Kiichi mumbles, and Kimishita turns back around, laying down next to him. Kiichi latches onto him like an octopus claiming its next unsuspecting victim, peppering kisses across his shoulder, his neck.

"Love you," he murmurs against Kimishita's skin, smiling as it reddens under his lips.

"Die," Kimishita grumbles, but he turns towards him anyways, catching his lips in a gentle kiss. Kiichi feels himself melt into it, starved for the affection, raising a hand to brush across Kimishita's neck.


	2. indoumizu; glove kink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shamelessly inspired by furiosity's amazing fic, to dream together, which everyone should really read; hmm
> 
> as always.. request @iindou

Mizuki pulls on his gloves with a _snap,_  and Kaoru swallows thickly, feeling something liquid and dark burn in the pit of his stomach. He shouldn't be this affected, he tells himself.    
  
"You're a pervert," Mizuki mumbles, huffing out a laugh. Kaoru rolls his eyes, but he bites at his bottom lip, anticipation tight under his skin, staring up at Mizuki.    
  
Mizuki leans down, catching him in a kiss, legs shifting where they straddle Kaoru's lap to make room for a hand that strokes down Kaoru's chest, reaching for his zipper. Kaoru hums lowly into the kiss when Mizuki palms him through his jeans, and Mizuki trails kisses over his jaw with a huff.    
  
"You're hard from watching me put on my gloves?" Mizuki asks, amused.    
  
"It's different when I know what you're going to _do_ with those gloves," Kaoru replies indignantly, leaning over to kiss Mizuki again. Mizuki sighs into his mouth, unbuttoning his jeans and tugging the zipper down, slipping a gloved hand in his pants and pulling him out.    
  
Kaoru groans softly against Mizuki's lips when he feels the strange, foreign texture of the glove wrap around him, glancing down. Mizuki's fingers start to move in a slow rhythm, and Kaoru can't help but stare, finding it unbearably hot.    
  
"Seriously?" Mizuki asks, eyes locked on Kaoru's face. His pupils are blown, and Kaoru arches into Mizuki's fist, panting, giving him a show.    
  
"Yeah," Kaoru breathes. "Is it weird?"   
  
"Everything about you is weird," Mizuki grumbles, but he moves forward, swallowing Kaoru's gasps and moans with his mouth, lips skidding over his neck. He tightens his fist, speeding up the motion of his wrist, and Kaoru tenses, breaths coming shallow and quick.    
  
"Fuck," he groans, fingers curling into the hem of Mizuki's shirt. "Mizuki, god." The fabric of the gloves provides friction that leaves Kaoru shuddering, the foreign sensation sending sparks up his spine.   
"You're a mess," Mizuki mumbles roughly into his ear.    
  
"C'mon, _Kaoru_ ," he says, and it's the way Mizuki says his name, low and sultry, that pushes him over the edge, teeth grazing harshly at Mizuki's neck.    
  
When he recovers, Mizuki's flushed red, staring down at his hand, eyes dark.    
  
"I'm never going to get this out of my mind,, every time I put on my gloves," Mizuki says. "I hate you."   
  
"You love me," Kaoru murmurs, mostly as a joke. He doesn't expect Mizuki to sigh wearily, leaning into his neck.    
  
"Yeah," Mizuki says. "Guess I do." Kaoru's eyes go wide, before he grabs Mizuki, turning them to the side so that he's leaning down over Mizuki.    
  
"Say it again," he pleads. Mizuki stares up at him, eyes softening.    
  
"No," Mizuki grumbles, flushing. Kaoru kisses him, immediately, over and over.    
  
"Love you," Kaoru says, against Mizuki's lips, grinning when Mizuki trails his lips over his cheek. _It's enough._ He moves backwards, situating himself between Mizuki's legs, and Mizuki props himself up on his elbows, staring down in surprise.    
  
"Your turn," Kaoru says, with a wicked smirk.   
  
Kaoru sucks Mizuki off, slow and sweet, taking his time. Every groan he coaxes out of Mizuki sets a fire blazing in his chest, and he forces himself to take it deeper, hollowing his cheeks. Mizuki makes a soft noise, eyes fluttering shut and hands burying themselves in Kaoru's messy hair, hips twitching involuntarily into his mouth.    
  
Kaoru hums with pleasure, savoring Mizuki's small sounds, relaxing and letting Mizuki move, hesitant. Kaoru tugs at Mizuki's shirt, his hips, encouraging, and Mizuki shudders with realization, pulling Kaoru's mouth off of him with a slick noise.    
  
"Are you –"   
  
"Yeah," Kaoru says, voice rough. He watches Mizuki swallow, his eyes lidded in pleasure, and gives him a sly wink.    
  
Moving back down, he lets his jaw relax, breathes deep through his nose as Mizuki tangles his hands hard in his hair, hips starting to thrust gently into Kaoru's mouth. Kaoru groans, urging him forward, and Mizuki lets a little more of himself go, breath coming out in shallow pants.    
  
_Gorgeous,_  Kaoru thinks, eyes fixed on Mizuki's face, tonguing up the underside of Mizuki's cock. Mizuki groans at that, and he starts to move harder, wanton – close.    
  
Kaoru reaches up, catching Mizuki's hand, and hums in satisfaction when Mizuki laces their fingers together before he takes a breath, leaning in and taking Mizuki as deep as he can. Mizuki's hips twitch forward, once, twice, before his hand tightens around Kaoru's, coming down his throat with a choked gasp.    
  
Kaoru swallows dutifully, pulling off with a _pop_ and grinning cheekily.    
  
"So embarrassing," Mizuki mumbles, swiping at the bottom of Kaoru's lip with his thumb.


	3. indoumizu; top mizuki

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is gratuitously self-indulgent  
> @iindou for requests
> 
> also, i just want to mention that i'm writing all this at like 1-2 AM ; please excuse any gross typos i have

"So," Mizuki says, tugging Kaoru towards him. His hand is blazing where it touches Kaoru's arm, sending a rush of warmth over Kaoru's skin and down to his bones. "A change of pace, you said."  
  
"Yeah," Kaoru mumbles, letting himself be pulled forward. His knees hit the bed and he clambers on, shuffling until he's straddling Mizuki's lap. Mizuki raises an eyebrow, brushing teasing fingers over Kaoru's neck, tracing his jaw.  
  
"What did you have in mind?" This close, Mizuki's voice is intoxicating, and Kaoru's head spins with it, the feather-light touches across his neck driving him to distraction. Kaoru grabs Mizuki's wrist, stilling the motion, thumb tracing Mizuki's pulse point – his heartbeat thrums gently under the skin, quick and fluttering.  
  
Kaoru meets Mizuki's gaze, raising Mizuki's wrist to his mouth, pressing a kiss onto the soft skin. Trailing kisses upward to Mizuki's palm before moving to his fingers, Kaoru darts his tongue out to trace the pad of a callus-roughened finger. Mizuki's breath hitches, and Kaoru takes it as enough invitation to draw it into his mouth, sucking gently. Mizuki stares, eyes going dark, before pushing another finger into Kaoru's mouth – he laves his tongue over them, lips wet, before he pulls away.  
  
"Well," Kaoru starts, pulling his shirt over his head, Mizuki's eyes flickering appreciatively over his chest. A wave of nervousness washes over him, before he pushes it down, speaking. "I was thinking, mostly, that you could fuck me."  
  
Mizuki's eyes widen for a split second before they close, his face flushing red. When he opens his eyes again, after a beat, his pupils are blown, gaze almost unnervingly intense.  
  
"You want to?"  
  
Kaoru resists the urge to laugh, choosing to kiss Mizuki instead, hand coming up to cup his jaw. "Yeah." _It's you, of course I want to._  
  
Kaoru leans back and over, getting off of Mizuki and unbuttoning his jeans, shrugging them off, along with his boxers. Mizuki stares for a beat too long before following suit, pulling off his shirt and unbuckling his belt. Fumbling open the nightstand drawer, Kaoru pulls out a foil packet, haphazardly ripping it open. Lube trickles out from the opening, and he hastily catches the drip with his fingers before righting the packet, climbing back up onto the bed.  
  
Mizuki pulls his legs up slightly this time, and Kaoru manages to rest his weight mostly on Mizuki's thighs with a quirk of his lips. Kaoru tilts the packet into his hand, coating his fingers with the slippery liquid before reaching backwards with an arch of his back, pushing fingers roughly into his body with a soft sigh. Mizuki watches him hungrily, hands coming up to trace across Kaoru's chest and down to his hips. Kaoru works his fingers into himself, tipping his head against Mizuki's shoulder and letting out quiet noises against his skin.  
  
"Have you – done this a lot?" Mizuki asks, voice strangely choked.  
  
"Sometimes," Kaoru admits, breathy. "When I think about you."  
  
Mizuki's hands tighten on his hips, and Kaoru lets a third finger slip in, curling his hand inwards and driving a low groan from his lips, hips stuttering forward. Mizuki steadies him, before reaching around with a hand and stopping the steady motion of Kaoru's wrist.  
  
"Can I," he tries, unsteadily. Kaoru nods, eyes lidded, and he buries a moan in Mizuki's neck when he feels Mizuki's fingers push into him, strange and unfamiliar. "What do I –"  
  
"Just," Kaoru breathes, "move," shuddering when Mizuki does, fucking him on his fingers. Mizuki purses his lips, as if in concentration, before he experimentally lets his fingers curl forward. Kaoru hisses out a startled breath against his skin, voice breaking on Mizuki's name.  
  
"Good?"  
  
"Definitely," Kaoru groans.  
  
Kaoru chokes out a moan when Mizuki wraps a hand around him, legs trembling with the effort it takes to stay still – leaning back pushes him further into Mizuki's fingers and forward pushes him into his fist, and Kaoru lets out another low noise, mouthing at Mizuki's neck.  
  
"You need to – fuck, Mizuki – if you don't fuck me right now, I'm going to lose it," Kaoru groans, and Mizuki pauses before stilling his motions, pulling back.  
  
"Needy," Mizuki grumbles, but his voice is hoarse and pitched low, and Kaoru shudders when Mizuki takes his fingers out of him. Mizuki scoots back, shuffling out of his pants, barely turning before Kaoru's already moving, situating himself in his lap. Mizuki's hard, rubbing up against him, and it's – really hot, in a weird way Kaoru's never thought about.  
  
Then again, it's Mizuki, and all that weird shit becomes okay when it's him. _Fuck it._  
  
Kaoru reaches back, stroking Mizuki once, twice, before he tips his forehead against Mizuki's, lining up and pressing back and down. Kaoru's already open and wet, and Mizuki enters him with a surprised groan, breath fanning across Kaoru's lips.  
  
Kaoru feels – filled, is the first thing that comes to mind, and he almost makes a noise just at the thought – at the maddening knowledge that Mizuki is here and inside of him and fucking him.  
  
_Fuck._  
  
Kaoru leans up onto his knees, rocking softly back and forth, drinking in Mizuki's hitched breath and soft noises greedily. Mizuki's lips are parted, eyes shuttered – he looks wrecked, and Kaoru feels something pull tight and hot in his gut at the sight of it.  
  
"Mizuki," he says, strained, and Mizuki's eyes flicker up to his face.  
  
"Kaoru," Mizuki mumbles, hands coming up to support his hips. "You feel really good."  
  
Kaoru breathes out a laugh, pressing a kiss to Mizuki's lips before shifting, pressing backwards with a sigh. "I could say the same."  
  
Mizuki starts to guide Kaoru's motions with his hands, pulling him down and fucking up into him with shallow thrusts, driving small, breathless noises from Kaoru's lungs. Kaoru moves with him, pushing himself up with his knees, riding Mizuki in earnest as their mouths meet in a messy kiss. Kaoru feels as if he can't get enough, panting hard between the sensations flooding his body, the air pulled forcefully from his chest.  
  
Mizuki leans over, sucking a bruise over Kaoru's collarbone, harsh and possessive, and Kaoru's hips twitch involuntarily. He groans when he rubs up against Mizuki, aching and hard. Mizuki moves a hand over to stroke him, and Kaoru doubles over, breathing out a shaky groan.  
  
"If y-you touch me, I'm not gonna last," he grits out, and Mizuki's lips quirk up in a thoughtful smile before he's being guided backwards, Mizuki pushing him down onto his back. Kaoru lets him do it, parting his legs and curling his fingers against the sheets with a broken noise when Mizuki pushes back into him, setting an insistent, merciless rhythm.  
  
Mizuki props himself up over Kaoru on his arms, capturing his lips in a frenzied kiss. Kaoru shudders and gasps and moans against him, being pushed quickly to the edge. Mizuki fucks him hard, and Kaoru hooks a leg over his hip, urging him forward and tossing his head back, neck strained and tensed.  
  
"I'm –" Kaoru chokes out, before Mizuki's fingers are on him, around him, and he groans out a shattered approximation of Mizuki's name as he comes. Mizuki lets out a noise as Kaoru tenses around him suddenly, moving once, twice more before his arms tremble, burying his teeth in Kaoru's shoulder as he comes, Kaoru shivering at the feeling.  
  
Mizuki pulls out and Kaoru – he doesn't _whine_ , but it's a close thing, body tired and pleasantly sore. Mizuki flops down on top of him, and Kaoru raises a weary hand to rake through Mizuki's hair, pressing a kiss to his temple.


	4. shibakimi; mirror kink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hate @zaelish

The first time Kiichi notices it, they're just studying. There are finals coming up, and even though he knows he's already going to fail, he's trying his best to focus on the numbers that swim on the page in front of him. 

Unfortunately for him, he's a little distracted. His gaze sweeps across his room to glance at Kimishita, the midfielder's face goes quickly blank when he feels Kiichi's eyes on him, eyes darting away. Kiichi pauses, twirling his pen in his hand, before tracing Kimishita's gaze back across his room to the full length mirror that stands, propped up against his wall next to the door of his closet. 

There's a question that bubbles up in his lungs, words tumbling onto his tongue, but he holds them back, looking back at Kimishita thoughtfully as he notices the way Kimishita's ears redden, the way he tugs at the collar of his shirt self-consciously. 

Kiichi knows all his tells by now, and he's sure as hell learned this one first. 

_Kinky bastard._

_–_

They're crashing at Kiichi's house after a match, just the two of them. There's a cheesy action flick playing mindlessly across the screen, and Kiichi knows neither of them are really paying attention. Kimishita's gaze sweeps over him, a wave of heat following his eyes as they linger on Kiichi's neck, his lips – and Kiichi's going for it, getting to his feet. 

"My room?" he asks, nonchalantly. Kimishita huffs, but shrugs and gets up, fingers drumming against his legs in the way that Kiichi knows spells anticipation. It makes Kiichi smirk, a little bit, safe in the knowledge that Kimishita's wanted this, that he's not alone. He gestures sharply with his head before moving past Kimishita, walking toward his room with broad steps.

"Your parents," Kimishita starts, and Kiichi smiles.

"They won't be back," Kiichi says, and they fall into silence again, walking through the doorway and into Kiichi's room. Kimishita closes the door behind them, and the _click_ of the door feels strangely intimate, sending a jolt racing up the back of Kiichi's neck.

"So," Kimishita says, looking at him. 

"So," Ooshiba replies, and moves in to kiss him. Kimishita reacts immediately, fisting a hand tight in his collar before pushing him backwards, towards his bed. Ooshiba growls at the challenge, digging his heels in and standing his ground, trying to regain the upper hand, nipping at Kimishita's bottom lip. Kimishita laughs, a short, dark sound, before Kiichi's shoved backwards, hard, and he stumbles, the back of his legs hitting the bed and the rest of him landing back onto the mattress. Kimishita stands over him for a moment, appraisingly, before he crawls over him and recaptures his lips in a merciless kiss, leaving Kiichi gasping for air. Kimishita gets his hands in Kiichi's hair, tugging hard, and Kiichi sucks in a surprised breath, voice catching on a groan as Kimishita trails his lips down his neck.

"Kimishita," he tries, swallowing. He glances around Kimishita's shoulder, catching a glimpse of the two of them in the mirror, and feels himself start to flush. His hair is already mussed, his face red and eyes starting to go dark with arousal – he looks like a mess.

"Atsushi," he says, and this time, Kimishita pauses, looking up at him questioningly. Kiichi fixes his gaze behind him, and Kimishita finally turns minutely, following Kiichi's line of sight before his eyes widen. Kiichi notices the quick bobbing of his throat, the way his fingers tighten almost imperceptibly in the sheets below his hands, and smirks.

"So I was right," Kiichi mumbles, and Kimishita shakes his head before kissing him again, silencing him. 

"Shut up," Kimishita grits out, against his lips, and Kiichi wants to laugh, breathless.

"Hey," Kiichi starts, breaking away to press his lips to Kimishita's jaw, sucking a harsh bruise into the skin there. _Mine._ "You wanna watch, right?" 

When Kimishita's breath hitches, he knows he's onto something. 

"Fuck me," he murmurs, voice low, and Kiichi revels in the way that Kimishita shivers against him, smiling against Kimishita's skin.

Kimishita falls silent, but there's a tension to the way he moves that telegraphs his anticipation, his arousal, and it sends a thrill through Kiichi's veins. Kimishita sighs, pulling away and raking a hand roughly through his hair, looking over at Kiichi, eyes blown and dark. 

"You trying to kill me?" he asks, voice hoarse, and Kiichi's lips quirk up, eyes lingering appreciatively on Kimishita's body when he starts to take off his shirt.

"You got me," Kiichi says, following suit. They're silent for a minute, before Kiichi shifts, adjusting their positions on the bed so that the mirror's behind him, giving Kimishita a full view of the glass at his back as he straddles Kimishita's lap. Kimishita glances up at him before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss against his collarbone, and Kiichi feels himself shiver at that, feeling strangely vulnerable, as if Kimishita's seen straight through him. Kimishita's hands flutter over his chest, his ribs, before trailing downwards, deftly undoing his jeans and tugging at them with a frown. Kiichi laughs, short and airy, before he's rising up on his knees to shrug them off, along with his boxers. 

He leans back down onto his feet, naked in Kimishita's lap, and he arches his back shamelessly, grinding down against Kimishita's clothed leg. Kimishita growls possessively, hands coming up to frame Kiichi's hips, holding him down. 

"Like what you see?" Kiichi asks, before he can even stop himself, and Kimishita arches an eyebrow, even as his hands trail down to give him an experimental stroke, Kiichi shuddering out a quick breath.

"Don't let it go to your head," Kimishita grumbles.

Kiichi's fingers start to undo Kimishita's belt, but they tremble and curl in on themselves when Kimishita wraps his hand tightly around his cock, Kiichi bending into himself and gripping Kimishita's thigh as he pants, leaning into Kimishita's fist. It's not even that bad, but it's the fact that it's _Kimishita's_ hands on him that always make it that much worse, that much harder to bear.

"C'mon," he whines, trying again to undo Kimishita's belt buckle and failing miserably. Kimishita huffs out an amused laugh, pulling his hands away from Kiichi and tugging his belt off. Kiichi tries to be patient, even as his body protests the touch's withdrawal, and he leans back to give Kimishita the space he needs to kick off his jeans.

"Can you," Kimishita starts, but Kiichi's already moving in practiced motions to lean over, pulling his nightstand open roughly and grabbing a familiar-feeling bottle. He pops the cap open, about to squeeze it out into his palm when Kimishita's hand comes up, snatching the bottle from his hands. 

"Let me," Kimishita says, lowly, and Kiichi's eyes go lidded at the timbre of his voice, at the way Kimishita's hand spreads wide and warm across his back, tugging him closer.

Kimishita presses his lips softly to Kiichi's shoulder before he coats his fingers liberally with lube, pulling back to stare up at Kiichi's face as he pushes two steadily into Kiichi's body. Kiichi opens and closes his eyes in succession, jaw tensed and breath escaping him in a rush as he feels Kimishita's hand start to shift.

It's – it's hot, not even from the feeling, but just from the knowledge that Kimishita's fingers are inside of him, working him open, and he arches into it, aching to touch himself but holding himself back. Kimishita knows his body by now, and when he curls his fingers in _just_ right, dragging a harsh groan from Kiichi's throat and forcing him to hide his face against Kimishita's shoulder, Kiichi knows he's done it on purpose. 

"Bastard," he seethes, even as his body grinds down onto Kimishita's hand, voice catching as Kimishita adds another finger into him, moving just enough to graze his prostate but not enough to make it _good._ He swallows down his pride, shuddering into Kimishita's neck. "Hurry up."

"Impatient," Kimishita chides, amusedly.

"Just," Kiichi gasps out, voice breaking when Kimishita curls his fingers inward again, pressing up hard and knocking the breath from his lungs. Slick, obscene noises echo through his room, interrupted only by Kiichi's breathing, harsh and interspersed with soft pants. Kimishita shushes him, biting softly at his shoulder, his gaze shifting over his back to stare at the mirror in front of him. Kiichi swallows thickly, understanding, and shifts his weight forward onto his knees, propping himself up a bit and letting Kimishita get a better view, feeling a wave of embarrassment flood his chest.

 _The things I do,_ he thinks, self-deprecatingly, before Kimishita's hands start to drive all coherent thought from his brain.

Kimishita's free hand comes up to wrap around his cock again, and Kiichi's hips drag backwards instinctually – he hisses when the movement drives him back onto Kimishita's fingers, sending sparks up his spine.

"Don't," he pleads, breathily, when Kimishita starts to touch him with languid strokes, Kiichi biting hard on his tongue to keep from crying out. "C'mon."

"What do you want?" Kimishita says, his voice a low rumble. Kiichi ducks his head, unwilling to meet his eyes. "Kiichi."

"Fuck me," Kiichi mumbles, hesitantly, and Kimishita grins, feral and dangerous. 

"Was that so hard?"

"Turn around," Kimishita orders, and Kiichi feels a flare of indignance spark in his chest at the command before he shudders, urge to submit warring with the urge to challenge. Kimishita leans in to nip warningly at his neck, nosing at his jaw, and Kiichi lets out a shaky breath, complying. Kimishita pulls his fingers out of him gently, and Kiichi grits his teeth, trying not to let out a whine at the feeling. He turns so that his back is to Kimishita's chest, both of them facing the mirror.

"Look at you," Kimishita purrs, and Kiichi feels himself redden as he studies their reflection. He's a wreck, cock hard against his stomach as he grinds back into Kimishita, and his eyes go wide when he feels Kimishita slip fingers back into him, watching his hand disappear into his body with a wet noise and shuddering hard at the sight. Kimishita's eyes are locked on the mirror, watching with rapt attention.

Kiichi reaches back and around, awkwardly stroking at Kimishita's cock before grinding back against it, raising his hips away from Kimishita's hand.

"Like I said," Kimishita says, letting his fingers slip out of him, "you're too impatient." Kimishita's other hand comes up around Kiichi's hips, guiding himself with slippery fingers into Kiichi's body, letting out a low groan against the back of Kiichi's neck when he's fully in. 

Kiichi pants, helpless, adjusting to the sensation as his eyes dart to the mirror. He looks – desperate, hips grinding down in small circles against Kimishita, his own cock red and neglected, painfully hard. Kimishita tightens his grip on Kiichi's hip, bringing a wet hand up to wrap over Kiichi's cock, and Kiichi practically sobs when Kimishita starts to fuck him, moving in slow, controlled thrusts that leave him trembling and begging for more.

Kiichi can't form words, not when Kimishita's moving immediately at a merciless pace, and he feels as if his body's on fire, the mirror intensifying both his self-consciousness and his arousal. He glances up at his reflection where his mouth is parted in a wordless cry, a thick sob falling from his lips when Kimishita times the movement of his hand to match his thrusts. He's falling apart too quickly, and he groans raggedly when Kimishita pulls him back onto his cock, angle shifting to hit where he needs it, spine already arching hard to grind back against him. Kimishita growls softly, a low, possessive noise, before he speeds up, fucking him hard, and Kiichi feels himself slip over the edge before he can help it as he watches Kimishita fuck him in the mirror, gasping out Kimishita's name brokenly before he's coming in staggered spurts over Kimishita's hand, toes curling hard into the sheets.

When Kimishita's hips start to stutter in their movements, Kiichi forces his gaze to zone in on the mirror, watching Kimishita's eyes flutter closed, face twisting in pleasure before he comes inside of Kiichi with a harsh, choked moan. 

 _Next time: condom,_ Kiichi manages to think, even as he shivers at the feeling of wetness inside of him, flinching when he shifts and sends a jolt through his overstimulated nerves. Kimishita slides an arm over Kiichi's chest, pulling him back into him, and stares, lazily, at the mirror.

"We look good together," Kimishita says, slowly, eyes trailing down to where their bodies are joined at the waist. Kiichi's mouth goes dry.

"You always say such embarrassing shit," he grumbles, but he can't help but agree.


End file.
